Comforting
by Aurorawhisperwind
Summary: An exhausting trip later, Edward goes to submit his report with some dread and gets something unexpected...ONESHOT. Shounenai


**Aurora whisperwind:** My first delve into shounen-ai. I can't possibly match up to the high standards some of the amazing writers here have set, but I'll try? Crosses fingers

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal alchemist or any of its characters.

**Warnings:** Male/Male love. If this offends you, then please do not read further. Thank you.

* * *

Edward did not want to go in there now.

"He already knows what I've done!" he grumbled, trying to blink away his two-day-old headache, at the unfazed Hawkeye, "why do I have to go to him and let him make his stupid cracks?" She raised one perfect eyebrow at him, and gave him her traditional your-comfort-is-not-my-priority-so-shut-up-and-do-your-work-before-I-shoot-you look. The chibi considered this for a moment, and then with a massive sigh trudged slowly to the door. Putting one gloved hand on the knob he turned back pleadingly at her. She glared.

With increasing dread, he opened the door slowly. He really was uneasy somehow, and it wasn't just his head. There had been a series of murders in Whitewood, and it had taken him a long time, three more deaths, and a shop destroyed to discover the murderer who was hiding under his nose all the time, a deranged innkeeper. Knowing Mustang he was already aware, and end up taunting him to no end and Ed would end up screaming and raving, feeling guiltier than ever by the end of it.

The man looked up the second he came in, but Edward took his time closing the door behind him and stepping closer to the desk, feeling the man's gaze boring into him all the while. "So" Mustang drawled, and Edward met his eyes for a second for a second before looking at the carpeted floor. There was no accusation in those eyes and yet…

He heard the chair being pushed backwards, and Mustang's light, almost inaudible footsteps. "How long has it been since you've combed your hair?" the flame alchemist asked him gently, making Edward look up, startled. His hair, it had been a long time, but Edward had lost his comb and simply hadn't bothered. No wonder his head hurt. Without warning, he felt himself being lifted up and placed on the desk, warm hands on his waist.

He attempted to say something, but his words got mixed up and blotched on the way to his mouth and all he could do was stare as Mustang pulled a comb out of his pocket, and unbraided, if it could be called that, his hair. Gentle fingers smoothened the snarls away slowly, and he started to go into a blurred realm of comfort. _He knows, and he hasn't said anything about it. He didn't reprimand me, and he didn't even insult my height. I thought he would, but I'm always wrong about him_. A warm flush filled his cheeks, and he looked at the colonel's serious face, impassive with a hint of softness. "I-" he began but was cut off with a whispered "It's not your fault". _It's not your fault; it's never your fault. I should have watched you better. Why did the colonel always want to protect him? All the times he had risked his position, and all to rescue him and Al from their latest mess. Had he always been too blind to see what was inside this man?_

He drew his gaze upwards, at the broad shoulders, the almost delicate neck, the sharp contours of his face, the pale skin and the perfect lips. Without thinking he reached up to trace those lips with his gloved fingers. Mustang drew in a sharp breath, the comb slipping off his fingers. Undaunted and clearly out of his mind, Edward moved his fingers to cup the other man's cheek, before reaching up and brushing his lips with his. It was the chaste kiss, so sweet yet so intense that cleared the fog his mind had gotten into.

He had kissed Roy Mustang.

What in the world had possessed him to do that?

He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ to get out of the bottomless pit he had thrown himself into, when those glorious lips captured his again. Stunned, Edward just sat there for a second, before opening his mouth a fraction, deepening the kiss. His head spinning more than ever, he tentatively brought his hands up to tangle them in the man's dark hair, so soft and so unlike the man himself. They wouldn't emerge for quite a while.

And outside, a very suspicious Riza Hawkeye waited patiently. If the colonel was irritating Edward intentionally and destroying his paperwork in the process…. There would be hell to pay.

* * *

Not too smooth, I realize. I got the idea when after a really frustrating day I college, I stormed back home in tears. My mamma took one look at my face, made me sit down and brushed my hair. And it was such a comforting feeling, I couldn't resist writing this.

I'll be happy to get criticism, so please review!


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